


The Kissing Booth

by queenhomeslice



Series: Prince of Lucis, King of My Heart [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, High School, House Party, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Kissing Booths, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Secret Crush, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, fat reader, plus size reader, student council rep reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: “I’ve got it,” says Prompto after a while.The three of you have lost track of time on top of the checkpoint—no doubt Ignis and Gladio are launching a manhunt as Prompto speaks.“Hm,” says Noctis, half-asleep.“A kissing booth.”You feel the heat surge to your face and look away. What’s more torture—not being in Noct’s life at all, or being his best friend and knowing that you’ll never be anything more? In this moment, you can’t decide.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader
Series: Prince of Lucis, King of My Heart [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656907
Comments: 58
Kudos: 100





	1. You would kill for this, just a little bit

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> ———  
> Chapter titles from Straylight Run’s “Existentialism on Prom Night”

It’s a clear Friday night, the stars shining through the haze of the Wall. You, Prompto, and Noctis are where you shouldn't be—on the top of the checkpoint to the crown city, sitting on the peeling yellow paint. 

Prompto scuffs his boots along the metal as he leans back on elbows, blowing his long blond bangs away from his face. “So, the charity festival,” he says. 

You groan. Miraculously, you’re on the student council—just a lowly representative, but still, it’s a job you take pride in (though, you’re pretty sure Noct rigged the voting, or canvassed _way_ too much for a high school election). The bossy student council president has been holding hours-long meetings for weeks about what the senior class is doing for the fundraiser. The various clubs and sports teams have all submitted their ideas, even though the festival is still three weeks away. Your entire grade is responsible for raising money for ocean conservation, in partnership with an organization based in Accordo that has a Lucian office in Galdin Quay. It’s definitely something you can get on board with—sustainable fishing, preserving endangered species, alternative methods to fracking to avoid offshore oil spills. Noctis was _very_ on board with the choice of charity, the fishing nerd that he is; and he and Prompto had been racking their brains about what the rest of the class could do as a fundraiser. 

“The sports teams have all decided to do food stalls, the debate team has a dunking booth, and the newspaper club is doing face painting,” you read from the notes on your phone. “The gaming club has an open D&D campaign, the choir is running a singing maid café, and the yearbook club is in charge of the ticket booths at each club’s event.” 

“So where does that leave anyone who’s _not_ in a club?” whines Prompto. 

“Everyone else has signed up with council to volunteer with setting up booths and sets, to direct guests around the school, or to be runners for supplies.” You look at Noctis, whose pretty face is scrunched up in thought. “Sorry, Noct, but the whole council is very adamant about you doing something special. Like it or not, you’re our main draw, even though you’re not in a club. I’ll help you do whatever you want, but you gotta come up with _something_.” You look at Prompto, who’s staring up into the sky. “You too, Prom. You gotta either volunteer like everyone else, or help Noct with his thing.” 

“Oh I’m helping Noct,” says the blond. “We just have to think of what to do.” 

“Please let it be easy,” groans the prince, lying back on the roof with his hands behind his head. “Like, something I can do that requires...sitting.” 

“We gotta think of what would raise the most money,” says Prompto. He giggle-snorts. “We could always just charge people to see Noct with his shirt off.” 

“And have Gladio come in and make fun of me all day? Pass,” says Noctis. 

Thankful that the night helps to hide your blush at the thought of the prince shirtless, you cough and put your phone down, thinking of something for Noctis to do for the charity fundraiser. 

“I’ve got it,” says Prompto after a while. 

The three of you have lost track of time on top of the checkpoint—no doubt Ignis and Gladio are launching a manhunt as Prompto speaks. 

“Hm,” says Noctis, half-asleep. 

“A kissing booth.” 

You feel the heat surge to your face and look away. What’s more torture—not being in Noct’s life at all, or being his best friend and knowing that you’ll never be anything more? In this moment, you can’t decide. 

“Well,” yawns Noctis. “As long as I can keep my clothes on.” 

“Seriously?” Prompto grins. “Just think dude. Think of all the cute girls that will pay you _so_ much money.” 

“Are we talking like tongue, or...?” Noctis turns to his best friend. 

“Psh, nah, I’m sure the council has decided that this is a family-friendly event, yeah?” Prompto leans forward, locking eyes with you, and he _winks_ , the bastard, because he _knows_. 

You swallow quietly and nod. “Uh, yeah, yeah. Family...family-friendly.” 

“So like, just a peck on the lips. Or maybe on the cheek.” Prompto shrugs. “Nothing big, nothing to ruin his Highness’ honor.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Noct scoffs. He exhales. “I mean I don’t have a better idea, so. It sounds okay to me. You’ll collect the fees, Prom?” 

“Sure,” says Prompto, glowing. “I say two hundred yen per kiss.” 

“Damn, I’m that cheap?” Noctis laughs. 

“Swallow your pride, Prince Noctis,” you tease, even though you’re internally screaming. _A kissing booth_. 

“Ugh.” Noct groans at his title. 

“It’s for a good cause,” you remind him. “The price doesn’t matter.” _Because your kisses are worth more than life itself,_ _Noct_ , you think idly, before the self-deprecation kicks in with the inevitable follow-up, _and you know that he’s never going to like you back_. Sniffing quietly to yourself, you pull out your phone to text the student council president. 

“Sure, then, I guess,” laughs Noct. “I guess it could be fun.” 

“We’ll get you some really good Chapstick,” says Prompto, laying his hand on Noct’s shoulder. “Trust me buddy. The seniors are going to win this.” 

“It’s not a competition, Prom,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Each class has a different charity they’re supporting. As a whole school, we’re doing good and selfless work.” 

“Eh,” says Prom, waving his hand. “Still. We’re gonna _Noct_ it out of the park! Huh? Huh?” The goofy blond waggles his eyebrows as Noctis snorts and shoves him over. 

You shake your head at his lame pun and look back down at your phone, the group chat with the student council blowing up with your news of Noct’s chosen fundraising activity. 

It’s fine, right? You can watch a line of people line up and kiss the lips that have whole fucking blogs dedicated to them. You can stand at the entrance to the school and point giggling, skinny, pretty teenage girls in the direction of the prince you’ve been in love with your whole life. You can go the whole night knowing that Noctis will be kissing hundreds of people who are decidedly _not_ you. 

You’re seventeen, right? You can do this. You’re a mature student council representative. 

You can do this. 

You look up from your phone and see Noctis and Prompto having already moved on from the conversation, cracking jokes about some comic they’ve read. You watch as the bright lights of the checkpoint catch in Noct’s dark raven hair, his blues sparkling with mirth as he laughs with Prompto, the ripple of his lean muscle under his tight t-shirt, the sleek curve of his jaw, his soft rounded nose, and his full lips, which are spread wide into a smile. 

You look away before the guys can catch you staring. You lift your eyes to the sky. 

You can’t do this. 

_You’re fucked_. 


	2. Sing me something soft, sad and delicate

_Two weeks before the school charity festival_

__________

You’re holed up in the Citadel library, studying for the upcoming pre-calculus exam next week. Being best friends with Noctis has its perks—namely, the library, with its floor-to-ceiling shelves of almost every book one could imagine. It’s a Thursday night, and you wouldn’t normally be out so far from home, but tomorrow is a designated Senior Skip Day, and you see no point of going to school if Noctis and Prompto aren’t going. You’d already told your parents that you were spending the night with Noctis—any other guy would have them putting bars on your windows, but they seem to trust the prince. It’s not weird, right? You’re just friends. You can have sleepovers with Noctis and Prompto and it’s not weird. Right? Right. Totally normal. 

You sigh after the tenth problem, letting the pink mechanical pencil fall to the paper full of numbers and figures. You can’t concentrate. There’s no denying that Noctis running a kissing booth is going to be the highlight of the seniors' fundraising efforts, but each time it’s mentioned, you feel like you’re having a heart attack. 

Gladio’s already working on building a little wooden booth for his highness at the Amicitia mansion, because there’s been a collective decision to keep this quiet from Ignis, who would no doubt lecture about “the prince’s honor” or something. The rest of student council is quietly waiting until the last possible moment to make announcements about the kissing booth, and you—you're simmering quietly, pining away for something that you know is never going to happen. 

You check your phone—it's already after nine. You sigh, wondering if you should just pack up and catch the bus to Noct’s neighborhood—when the giant library door squeaks open, and who should walk in but the king himself. You blush, a little self-conscious in your short athletic shorts and school sweatshirt. You stand from the couch where you’d made a nest of pillows and homework and bow at the approaching royal. 

“Your Majesty,” you say, standing up fully. 

“I thought I heard a little studious mouse in my library,” chuckles Regis. 

“Yes sir, um. Just studying.” 

“You’re here awfully late. Aren’t your parents worried?” 

You shake your head. “No sir. It’s a skip day for seniors tomorrow. And I told them I was spending the night with a friend.” 

Regis smiles, his old eyes twinkling. “Then why aren’t you out having fun with my wayward boy? Your schoolwork is important, but life isn’t all books, you know.” He reaches out, planting a firm hand on your shoulder, tilting his head. “You’re a good girl, __________. Noctis is lucky to have you and Prompto as friends.” 

You nod and give the king a shy smile. “I’m so lucky to be Noct’s friend, your Majesty. If it weren’t for him, and Prompto, I wouldn’t have anybody.” 

“Then the same is true for him. You need each other. Hold tight to him. He needs you more than you’ll ever know.” The king drops his hand. “It’s late, and if there is no school for you tomorrow, you should go have fun with your friends. The books will still be here in the morning.” 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” 

Ignis, bless his heart, had been working late that night, and he offered to take you to Noct’s apartment. The drive there is quiet, contemplative, with Ignis talking about some trivial royal business you’d asked him about. 

“So is it true?” he says nonchalantly, after a few minutes of silence. 

You’re jolted out of your usual daydreaming of dating the prince. You keep your eyes fixated on the passing cityscape, Ignis’ sleek sports car seeming to glide across the highways in slow motion. It’s only ten o’clock, and although you’d holed yourself up in the Citadel right after school, passing on an arcade trip with the boys, you feel as though you’d been there for days on end. It didn’t help that you barely got any studying done at all. 

“Is what true?” 

“That you are attracted to Noct?” 

The pit in your stomach grows hot and heavy, and you’re wishing for nothing more than to implode in on yourself and be swallowed up into a black hole of nothingness. You shrug. Who is telling Ignis these things? “Dunno what you mean.” 

“Hm.” Ignis turns onto the block where Noct’s apartment complex is located. “Well, you know that his Highness will likely be expected to marry a foreign princess, in order to forge a much-needed alliance for Lucis.” 

You sniff back traitorous tears. Of course you know that. “Yeah.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” says Ignis. “Noct values you as a friend. I’d hate for you to get your heart broken.” 

_Too late for that_. “Okay.” 

Ignis pulls into the underground garage of the luxury building. “Do you need help with your bags?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, it’s only my school backpack and a weekender.” You climb out of the car and get your bags from the backseat. 

“___________,” calls Ignis, rolling down the passenger window. 

“Huh?” You bend down and look at him. 

“You _do_ care about him, do you not?” 

“Well I mean, duh. He’s my friend.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” 

You shrug again. “You said it yourself, he’s gonna have to marry for dumb international politics anyway. So there’s no point, right? Besides.” You turn away. “It’s not like he’d ever date someone like _me,_ anyway.” 

“___________,” Ignis calls, but you’re already walking into the elevator. 

“Hey dude, there you are,” Noctis drawls all sleepy and cute as he opens the front door. “Where have you been?” 

“I was studying at the library,” you say as you brush past him. 

Prompto is furiously button-mashing on the latest RPG Noct got him as a winter solstice present. His eyes momentarily flick to you, then back to the screen. 

“What’s up, ________! Now it’s a party!” 

“Sure,” you laugh, following Noct to the spare bedroom. 

“Studying for what?” Noct asks as he leans on the doorframe, watching you fling your bags on the bed and shuffle out of your shoes. 

“Ugh,” you groan at finally having your sneakers off. You look at Noct, who’s eyeing you with a curious expression you can’t quite place. “Uh, the pre-cal test next Friday?” 

“Oh...shit,” says Noctis. 

“Yeah.” 

“You going to bed?” Noct switches subjects quickly, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“I think maybe, yeah. Tired.” 

“Okay cool. Sleep well. Uh, whatever you need in the bathroom, or the kitchen, or whatever. You know it’s yours.” He smiles. 

_Fuck, he’s so beautiful_. “Thanks Noct.” 

“G’night.” He yawns, and turns, closing the door until it’s just slightly cracked. 

You let out a long exhale and change into your pajamas, crawling into bed to pine quietly for the boy in the next room. 


	3. This delicate balance/Vulnerable, all knowing

_Monday, after school_

___________

You’re seated at the large round table in the back of the school library, the other student council members surrounding you in various states of conversation. There’s you, the third-year representative; the first- and second-year representatives, the vice president, the president, and the treasurer. 

“Right,” says the president, Questus, a thin, gangly boy with brown hair and oversize glasses. He looks at you. “___________, tomorrow, we will begin promoting the highlight of the senior charity fundraiser. Since you’re the closest to the prince, I want you to be in charge of all the posters around the school.” 

You nod, anticipating that you’d be in charge of Noct’s promotional materials. 

“I can’t believe it,” sighs Stella, the petite preppy blonde second-year rep. She twirls her long, curly hair in her fingers, dazed look in her eyes. “A kissing booth with Prince Noctis...it’s like a dream come true.” 

“Don’t get your head in the clouds,” says Nova, the stern first year-rep. “You know it’s not personal, right?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” says Stella dreamily. “Do you think you’ll be able to get in line twice?” 

“You’re _not_ getting in line,” snaps Augustus, the treasurer, who’s also a second-year student. “We’re _all_ working the festival. You won’t have time to slack off.” He adjusts his tie and looks at the vice president with a bright expression, like he’s expecting praise for putting Stella in her place. It’s no secret that he has a crush on Libra—it's probably about as bad as your crush on Noctis. 

Stella pouts. 

“Okay, okay, settle down,” says Libra, tucking her short black hair behind her ears. She looks at Augustus, who visibly straightens and leans forward when she addresses him. 

It’s so painfully obvious to everyone except Libra; and you can only hope that you hide your affections for Noctis better than the younger man at your side. 

“Augustus, how much do we still have in the budget after accounting for all the clubs’ building materials and supplies?” 

He opens up his sleek laptop and clicks through a few things before replying. “Um. We’re still in the green, but barely. We _should_ have about fifty thousand yen still in the account after the festival is over, provided there are no unforeseen incidents of anyone needing anything else.” He clears his throat. “However, if we kept at least _half_ of what the prince’s kissing booth is projected to make, we’d be where we started at the beginning of the school year.” 

Everyone turns to him, eyes wide. 

“You mean,” says Questus, “that the prince’s fundraiser alone with _half_ of his earnings will fill back up the student council fund?” 

Augustus nods, looking like the cat that got the cream. “I’ve crunched the numbers,” he says, licking his lips at Libra. “Drawing on past school festival numbers, with a few lowball estimates of how many more people Prince Noctis will attract, coupled with the price of his booth...yes, I’d say that we should be well in the green if we keep half, with everyone else’s efforts going solely to the Ocean Conservancy Network of Accordo.” 

“Wow,” you say, speaking for the first time. “And I mean, he’s actually neutral on our budget. His royal shield is building his booth—he borrowed no money or materials from the school budget.” 

“Of course, these are conservative estimates,” Augustus continues. “I haven’t even accounted for donations or sponsors from local businesses. This is a pretty big deal. The representative from OCNA is driving in on Friday to attend our last meeting before the festival.” 

“Great,” says Questus, adjusting his glasses again—but before he can finish, there’s a familiar voice that rounds the tall bookshelf that separates the round table from the rest of the library. 

“Hey,” says Noctis, giving a casual wave to the student council. 

Stella’s face goes beet-red, and you feel like punching her. However, Noct locks his pretty blue eyes with yours, and you feel a sudden rush of snarky pride. 

“Sorry to interrupt your meeting,” says Noct. “But uh, I need you.” 

Stella makes a sort of pained whine in the back of her throat, and Libra nudges her sharply with her elbow. 

You look to Questus. “Am I good to go, or...?” 

The president nods hastily. “Oh, yeah—of, of course, Highness. We were just finishing up.” He looks to you. “You’re free to go, __________. I expect posters beginning tomorrow during your homeroom period.” 

You nod, sliding back in the chair and standing, grabbing your heavy backpack from the floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll recruit the main attraction himself to help me. See you guys.” 

“Bye Prince Noctis!” calls Stella in a desperate, high-pitched voice as Noctis takes your backpack and throws his arm around your shoulder, rolling his eyes silently at the title. 

_______ 

“What did you need me for? And I can carry my own backpack, y’know,” you say once you and Noct are out of the library and down the hall. The prince hasn’t removed his arm from around your shoulder, causing you to flush hot under your dress shirt and blazer. 

He squeezes you. “I don’t mind carrying it. And don’t tell me you’re not grateful for saving you from those nerds.” 

“Hey man, don’t insult the nerds,” you laugh. “They’re a good group. I’m glad I’m on the council.” 

“Me too,” says Noctis. “And I didn’t really need you for anything. I’m just bored. Prompto has to work, and I’ve studied all I can stand.” 

You snort. “No training today?” 

“Nah, Gladio let me off the hook since he’s still building the thing.” Noctis waves his hand. 

“Cool. So...you excited?” 

“What, for Saturday?” Noct shrugs. “I guess.” 

“Have you told Ignis yet?” 

“Psh, hell no. He’d have a fit.” 

“You know he’s gonna find out sooner or later.” 

“Hey, it’s for a good cause. I’m the prince of the people, remember?” 

“Sure, but when Ignis kills you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“What did the president mean by posters?” Noctis stops in front of his locker and turns the combination, opening it to get out his gym uniform so that Ignis can wash it when he gets home. 

“Oh, uh. Since I’m your friend, the council wants me to be in charge of the kissing booth posters.” 

Noct’s face splits into a wide, beautiful grin. “Hell yeah, what are we waiting for? Let’s head to your place and make posters.” 

He slams his locker and puts his arm around you, still shouldering your bulging backpack, and leads you out of the front door of the school. 

You sigh in contentment. Noct’s easy contact is so welcome, and if you close your eyes and dream hard enough, you can almost imagine that his friendly physical affection means so much more. 


	4. Sunk inside our blankets/sprawled across the bed/and we were dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis has a dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Changed to Mature rating because of the contents of the dream

_Tuesday, middle of the night_

______________

Noctis wakes up in a cold sweat, blood pounding behind his temple. He feels limp, listless, like he’s moving through a fog. He peels back the covers—he's hot, uncomfortably so, and flings the heavy comforter and silk sheets to the side. 

The prince lays there in a daze, trying to make sense of the dream he’d just had. He rubs his thighs together, and—oh, fuck, _there’s_ the issue. Noct groans. He feels sticky, embarrassed, glad that he’s alone, that Prompto hadn’t invited himself over to spend the night. Not that his best friend wouldn’t be understanding, or crack some joke about it and wave it off, but...Noct feels himself flush even more as remnants of the dream coalesce in his brain. 

_Soft, skin on skin contact, breathless pants of pleasure, begging, clash of teeth and kiss-swollen lips._ _Noct_ _pushes __________ up into the wall, straddling one thick thigh, grinding his length against her._

_“Been wanting you for a long time,” he murmurs in between kisses. He doesn’t give her time to respond before he’s pulling aside the collar of her school uniform; and he buries his head in the crux of her neck, inhaling her scent, sucking marks into the soft, fat skin there, other hand wound tightly in her thick hair._

_She’s like a drug, the pleas of “Yes,_ _Noct,_ _fuck” setting his nerves on fire, sensations pooling low in his gut and meandering down to his groin. She feels so good underneath him, her big_ _pillowy_ _body such a contrast to his lean muscle, honed from years of working with a sword in the ring with_ _Gladio_ _. Soft feminine curves, pliant under his ministrations--_

_Her hands fly to his waist, pull his crisp white dress shirt up and settle tentatively against his sharp hip bones. He groans, almost_ growls _, and her hands on his skin is so overwhelming, Noctis thinks he might burst._

_“Wanted you too, Noct, never thought this would happen--”_

_“How long,” he asks, grinding against her, pushing her into the wall, like he can’t get close enough, like touching her is more important than breathing._

_“Since we were children, fuck, Noctis, I’m so in love with you, have been with in love with you for so long...”_

_There’s an inhuman sound that rips from his throat, so feral that even he doesn’t recognize it, and unwinds his hand from her hair and fumbles with her skirt, getting his hand up underneath it, reveling in the gasps that she’s making. His sword-calloused fingers tease along the hem of her underwear, finally pushing them down around the tops of her thighs._

_She’s all tight heat and slick velvet as she clenches around his fingers, shaking as she’s touched with hands that are not her own. Noctis is on a high, touching her like this, realizing that he’s her first, and fuck, he wants to be her only. She’s his whole world, in this moment, he doesn’t care if they get caught, he doesn’t care what Ignis will say, or his father, or anyone--_

Noctis flops back and flings his arm over his face, exhaling long and loud. This isn’t the first dream he’s had about his friend, but it’s certainly one of the more explicit ones. He reaches down with his other hand—the front of his boxers is soaked, and he’s gone soft. He groans, finally pushing himself up and out of bed, moving to the bathroom to clean himself off with a cold shower and fresh pair of boxers. 

He sighs as he gets back in bed, throwing the wet pillow to the floor in a huff. He knows he has to do something, soon. But dream __________ is just that—a dream. It wasn’t real, despite the very real physical effects it’s had on his body tonight. He thinks he’ll talk to Ignis about it, eventually, later, when it’s just the two of them. He’s so afraid of ruining the only close girl friend he’s ever had that he doesn’t even know where to begin. Noctis falls into a fitful sleep, wondering why teenage hormones are so complicated. 


	5. There are moments when/When I know it and/The world revolves around us

_Friday night, the day before the school charity festival_

_____________

Anyone who gives you a spare passing glance might come up with a plethora of assumptions about you, but never this one: that you are, in fact, invited to almost every single house party that any minor noble in the school puts on. Your first and second year of high school were sparse with invites, probably done as a courtesy more than anything else; but since becoming a class rep, and your status as Noct’s (only girl) friend heavily solidified in the brains of your classmates, the invites had jumped tenfold, with even the hunky jocks and the pretty, preppy girls coming up to your locker and inviting you personally to bonfires or late-night soirees when their parents are away on business. 

It’s one such party that’s happening now—one that you know shouldn’t be at, because the smell of recreational drugs hangs heavy in the air, and the fruit punch kinda burns when it hits the back of your throat. But this is a gated neighborhood, and all the rich, cool kids are here, leaving you feeling desperately out of place amid the booming house music and teenagers in various states of undress. You’re dressed nothing like what most of the popular girls are wearing—lacy little dresses or silky rompers that leave little to the imagination, not to mention the ones wearing bikinis who are out by the pool. Nope. It’s leggings and a school t-shirt for you, hair back in a headband. At least your sneakers are designer, thanks to Noct’s penchant for taking you and Prompto shopping when he’s feeling bored after a couple of hours at the arcade. You probably wouldn’t have half the clothes you own had it not been for Noct, but you’d long learned to quit fighting him and let him buy you things so expensive that they didn’t even have a price tag on them. Perks of being friends with a prince, you suppose. 

You move from the crowded living room, narrowly avoiding a poor first year who’s doubled over, seconds away from puking her guts out, and into the slightly-less-crowded dining room, where a few of the band kids have gathered with some guitars and are idly humming acoustic versions of pop songs. There’s a small audience, but everyone turns when you enter, smiling and holding up the ubiquitous red solo cups. 

Stella is leaning against the wall, red-faced and relaxed, mouth open in shock as you approach. “Hey __________,” she says, taking a sip of what is probably more alcohol than punch. “Didn’t know you’d be here.” 

“What can I say, I’m a party animal.” 

Stella snorts and laughs, grinning. You both know that nothing could be further from the truth. “Okay, sure.” She pauses, looks down into her cup, and swirls its contents with one hand. “So...tomorrow. Charity festival.” 

“Yep. You ready?” 

“Half the school is gonna be soooooo hungover,” she chuckles. “At least it’s in the afternoon.” 

“Thank the gods for small miracles,” you nod, taking a sip of your own concoction. 

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” 

“Huh?” You lift your eyes from where they’ve settled on the group of musicians in the middle of the room. “What bothers me?” 

“The kissing booth.” 

You let out something akin to a laugh and shake your head. “Doesn’t bother me. I think it’s great. You heard Augustus, we’re gonna make so much money. Noct is our trump card for this whole thing.” 

“Yeah, but...” Stella sighs, voice suddenly sad. “You like him, don’t you?” 

You turn your focus back on the musicians, who have recruited some choir members to join them in their laid-back song covers. The singing and strumming of the guitars is a perfect cover for this conversation. You exhale slowly, licking your lips, tasting the remnants of the sickly-sweet vodka and kool-aid. “Who doesn’t like him? He’s the prince.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, ___________. I know I’m like, super obvious about it, because goddamn he’s hot, but...you’re his friend, right? Like his best friend. So like...” Stella pauses again, half-drunk brain trying to find the words. 

“I guess so. I mean yeah, I guess we’re best friends. Me and him, and Prompto.” 

“Prompto’s cute too, I won’t lie. But like. Noctis. Is royalty.” 

“Right.” 

“And he’s hot, right? Like you agree with me on this.” 

“Yeah, I’ll agree with you. He’s pretty hot. But he’s also a big dork. You don’t see that part,” you chuckle. “Trust me, if you think I’m a nerd, hang out with Noctis for like, an hour. Guarantee he’ll subvert your perceptions of him.” 

“Bet,” says Stella, sighing. “I’d kill to hang out with him for like, five minutes.” 

You hum and take another swig of cheap liquor. 

“You’re changing the subject.” Stella clears her throat. 

“Am not.” 

“So what does it matter, Stella? What does it matter if he does some dumb kissing booth for a charity festival? He’s his own person.” 

“Doesn’t the jealousy just eat you up?” 

“It’s not like it means anything.” 

“So you _do_ want him to kiss you. You _do_ like him. Like. _Like_ like him. Right? Like...it’s obvious.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I think so.” Stella sighs and leans her head on your shoulder. “M’ drunk.” 

“I can tell.” 

“You have a crush on Prince Noctis.” 

“Okay, you don’t have to be so loud about it. And it doesn’t matter. He'd never like someone like me anyway.” 

“Hm,” says Stella, and she closes her eyes, keeping her head on your shoulder for a long time. 

It’s about five minutes after Stella’s insistent questioning has faded away, both of you leaning against the wall, eyes closed, enjoying the impromptu concert. There are sudden whispers, and the singing and the gentle music of the guitars falls away. You open your eyes, and who else is standing in the entryway than Noctis himself. 

His gorgeous blue eyes sweep the room until they settle on the corner where you and Stella are standing. His full lips curl up into the tiniest hint of a smirk, and he nods in greeting before waving to the rest of the students. The music slowly resumes, once the awe has simmered down. 

“Prince Noctis,” says Stella, half-asleep, without her usual fangirl attitude. “You’re here.” 

“I am,” chuckles Noctis. “Nice to see you.” 

Stella grins and raises her cup, downing the last of it. She stands on her own feet, finally lifting her head from your shoulder. “Gonna go...get more.” 

“You probably shouldn’t,” you start to say, but she’s already moving through the throng of people. 

“She’s the second year rep, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes still lingering on the crowd where she’d disappeared. 

“___________,” Noct says. 

You turn back to him, swallowing hard as you stare. You can’t help but settle your gaze on his lips. 

“Heard a rumor.” 

_Oh, fuck._ “You know our high school is the biggest rumor mill in the crown city,” you laugh bitterly. 

“Mmmmm,” Noctis nods, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking down. “It was...it was about...” 

Before he can continue, Prompto stumbles up behind him, face flushed, hair a mess, violet-blue eyes wide as saucers. 

“Bro,” hisses Prompto. “Bro you will never believe what just happened!” 

“What?” 

“I totally _made out_ with the captain of the girls' soccer team! I was playing spin the bottle upstairs in one of the bedrooms, and...” 

You take that as your cue to exit, not even waiting for Noctis to finish what he was about to say. “That’s great, Prompto. Well, it’s been a night.” You check your watch. “It’s after one, time for me to go. Big day tomorrow.” You pat Noct on the shoulder as you brush past him and a still-chattering Prompto, leaving so many words unsaid. 

“Yeah, uh. Yeah,” says Noct, shifting on his feet as Prompto leans on him, still talking his ear off about his drunken exploits. “See ya.” 


	6. Our whole lives laid out in front of us/Sing like you think no one’s listening/You would kill for this, just a little bit, just a little bit/You would

As expected, the Insomnia High Charity Festival is packed to the gills. The food stalls and the maid café are all indoors, as well as a few last-minute additions of homemade craft booths from some students who already had online businesses making and selling various art. The dunking booth and Noct’s kissing booth are out on the soccer pitch—and, as expected, the line is a mile long. You’re being a runner, of course, going around the school and making sure that all of clubs—senior and otherwise—have what they need. The representatives from each of the three different charity organizations have tables near the outdoor field, and dozens of people are gathered around them. You’re catching glimpses of Noct’s kissing booth every so often, but thankfully, showing visitors around the school, and fetching supplies for the various student-run stalls keeps you mostly occupied. 

However, the giggles from flustered teenage girls—and boys—keep bouncing around within earshot: _Oh, his lips are so_ _soft!,_ _He’s so hot and dreamy, did you see the way he smiled? I wonder what he’d say if I gave him my number?_ And needless to say, as much as you had deflected Stella’s persistent questioning the night before, and had claimed that no, the kissing booth didn’t bother you—it absolutely did. How could it not, even though you know that getting with Noctis is a pipe dream. He’s a prince, right? Princes don’t make out with fat girls, and they certainly don’t _date_ them. 

“Um, excuse me, sweetie?” 

There’s a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to an elderly couple behind you, holding a map of the school and all the student booths. 

“Oh, yes ma’am, sir! How can I help you?” You do your best to plaster a smile onto your face. “I’m third-year rep _________ ________.” 

“Yes, dear, can you point us to the maid café?” The old woman smiles sweetly at you, gripping her husband’s arm. 

It makes you smile to see the genuine love between the couple. “Yes, of course? Let me show you on the map.” 

It’s several more hours of that, pointing people around the school, communicating via walkie talkie, taking short five-minute breaks here and there to shove a meat skewer or small sample of curry down your throat before being summoned to a first-year table to help out a money problem. 

Come six o’clock, after five hours, you’re beat, and you’re finally sitting down for more than a minute. There’s still thirty minutes left in the festival, but most of the students have run out of their food, and are packing up their booths, idly hanging around and goofing off, patting each other on the back for a job well done. After getting leftovers from one of the second-year stalls—some _really_ good fried rice, honestly—you wander out of the school and to the soccer pitch, where the dunking booth and Noct’s kissing booth still have lines. The star of the dunking booth is the principal himself, so of course that’s been one of the more popular attractions of the evening. 

Prompto is seated at a table next to the booth, with a cash drawer—and a card reader, geez Noct, fancy much?--talking excitedly with the people in line, thanking them, waving them forward when it’s their turn. You watch Noct lean over, cup the chin of thin, pretty redhead, and peck her lips, soft and quick, pulling away with a shy smile, thanking her for her donation to the ocean conservancy effort. She giggles and turns beet red, bouncing away, grabbing her phone, no doubt to text her friends about the kiss from handsome Prince Noctis. 

“Why are you torturing yourself like this?” 

You turn to Stella, who’s devouring a funnel cake with laser-focused determination. “I’m just making sure everything is going all right.” 

“You gonna get in line?” 

“Psh, like hell.” 

“I’m sure he’d kiss you for free.” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing the smaller girl in her ribs. 

“Ow, hey! Don’t make me drop my funnel cake.” She swallows and licks her fingers. “I’m serious.” 

“ _You’re_ the one who’s always all talking about him. Why don’t _you_ get in line?” 

“Mmmm, maybe he’ll lick the powdered sugar from my face.” 

“Gross, dude.” 

Stella laughs, high-pitched and bright. “Joke’s on you, I snuck in line an hour ago.” She sighs dreamily. “It was...good.” 

“Yeah?” You try not to get choked up. “Yeah, that’s...good. I mean it’s him. Of course it would be.” 

“Still,” she says, continuing to decimate the funnel cake that’s as big as her face. “You should go. Be his last kiss. It’ll be the one he remembers.” 

“That’d be even more torture,” you say, sighing, watching the line grow shorter and shorter. “Getting a taste of something that’ll never be anything more. Better not to know what’s like at all.” 

“Oh my gods, are you always so self-deprecating?” 

“Easy for you to say, Stella,” you spit, giving the younger girl a snarky side-eye. “I don’t look like you. Or like any of those girls in line. Princes don’t kiss fat girls, much less date them.” 

“Says who?” 

“Says, like...every book, movie, and tv rom-com ever. Fat girls are the comic relief, they don’t get the guy.” 

Stella just hums and finishes her funnel cake, crushing the paper tray in her delicate hands. “Well, that’s just fake stuff, right? This is real. How do you know if you never try?” 

“What if it makes our friendship weird?” 

“Noct has kissed half the city at this point. Everyone’s feeling weird.” 

You chuckle as Stella pats your shoulder and meanders off the soccer pitch. Steeling your nerves and inhaling sharply, you make your way over to the kissing booth. 

You round the line and catch Prompto’s eye, and his pretty freckled face splits into the widest grin you’ve ever seen. 

“____________, bro! Come _see_ the money we’ve raised!” Prompto says excitedly. 

You lean over his shoulder, eyes growing big at the nearly-overflowing money drawer. “Holy shit, you guys. This is so great.” 

“Right? And this isn’t counting the credit cards we’ve swiped.” Prompto shows you the tablet and attached card reader. “Noct and the rep from the OCNA office set it up to send donations directly to the website.” Prompto swipes to a different screen, which shows a green tracker bar and an insane monetary amount. “Pretty cool, huh?” 

“That’s amazing.” You wipe a small tear from your eye. “Prom, I’m so proud of you two.” You look up and catch Noct’s gaze, right before he leans in to kiss a shy, stuttering teenage boy on the cheek—and the prince _winks_ , sending a jolt of arousal through your tired, overworked body. You turn your attention back to Prompto, leaning lower over his shoulder as he greets the next guest and asks their method of payment. 

“So, you gonna hop in line?” Prompto whispers, teasing, as he waves the next person over and takes their crumpled bills. 

“Pft, as if. Noct doesn’t want me in line.” 

“Au contraire,” says Prompto. “Would you believe me if I told you the poor dude has been asking after you all day? He’s kinda bummed you left so suddenly at the party last night.” 

“I was tired, and plus, I had all this shit to do with the festival. Besides, when I talked to him this morning, he was fine?” 

“Dude, okay,” says Prompto, exasperated, turning more towards you as Noctis is occupied with people. “You know Noct can get into moods, right. Where he’s quiet and shit. Or he doesn’t talk about stuff.” 

You nod. “Yeah, so?” 

“I’m serious when I say he hasn’t shut up about you visiting him here all day. He _wants_ you in line.” 

“Prompto, I...can’t. I can’t mess up our friendship.” 

“You won’t.” 

“You know it’s not just gonna be a casual kiss for me. I can’t...I mean I’ve never even _been_ kissed, so...” 

“Well Noct’s had lots of practice today. He’ll make it good for you.” 

“He doesn’t like me like that.” 

“That’s what you think,” Prompto mutters, as he turns and takes the next patron’s money. 

There are only five people in line, now. There’s an announcement coming from the school building, announcing the end of the festival. 

“Wait...what?” you hiss in Prompto’s ear. “Prompto...” 

“Yeah,” says Prompto, tucking his long blond hair behind his ear. “I guarantee Noct feels the same way about you that you feel about him.” 

“Quit joking like that.” 

“Ugh,” Prompto sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t understand girls. Get the hell in line, _________, and ask him yourself, then.” 

You stand up and give Prompto a questioning look, but he waves you on, instructing everyone as a whole to put the cash on the table as he stands behind you to officially say that the kissing booth is over to any newcomers that might wander on the field. 

It’s just you and Noctis at the booth now, with Prompto counting all the physical money and recording it on a sheet for Augustus. Noctis leans forward over the wooden counter and smiles. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hi,” you breathe, looking away, unable to gaze into his pretty blue eyes. “Uh. Did you...have a good day? Have fun?” 

Noctis snorts. “Sure, you could call it that. Wasn’t bad. I had fun watching other people have fun, so. Totally worth it. Lips are a bit chapped though, even with Chapstick,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah, that’s...that’s great. Um, thank you, really. For doing this, for the school. It really means a lot.” 

“Hey, _________, look at me.” 

You finally lift your eyes to meet his. He’s so beautiful, you almost can’t stand it, and your heart breaks a little more, thinking of all the people he’d kissed today. “Yeah?” 

“We never did finish talking last night.” 

“Oh, uh...sorry about that. I just...” 

“I heard a rumor,” says Noct. “I heard a rumor that you like me.” 

You bite your lip and look away. _Goodbye friendship_. “It’s nothing, Noct, I mean...” 

“Is it true? Look at me.” 

Flicking your eyes back up again to the prince, you nod, sniffing back tears. “I just...I just don’t want you to hate me. Ignis said...Ignis said I shouldn’t say anything, because you’re _you_ , and you’re gonna have to marry for politics, and...and...” 

“Listen,” says Noctis firmly. “Fuck what Iggy says. And fuck what’s gonna happen five, ten years from now. I’m focused on today.” 

“Okay,” you sniff. 

“And I—like you too,” breathes Noctis, voice hitching. “Like, kind of a lot.” 

All you can do is stare and try to remember how to breathe. 

“Like,” Noctis continues, and _he_ looks away now, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “I, uh. Have dreams. Sometimes. About you. And me. Uh. To-together.” 

This isn’t happening. This _can’t_ be happening, you convince yourself, no matter how real everything feels in this moment. The warm early-evening sun on your back, the rolling drips of sweat down your thick legs from under your loose school-issued gym shorts, the faraway buzz of crowds leaving the school, Prompto counting under his breath so he doesn’t lose track. 

“I’m tired of waiting,” says Noctis, and he leans forward, grabbing the back of your head with his hand, pulling you towards him. 

Noctis doesn’t just give you the sweet, shy pecks on the lips that he’d been giving random citizens all afternoon. Noctis prods at your mouth with his tongue, making you open up for him so that he can work his open mouth against yours. It’s all you can do to remember how to stand on your own two feet, and you’re feeling like someone has sucked out all of the air from your lungs. You desperately try to match Noct’s rhythm, moving against him in a wet, frenzied rhythm. He grips the back of your hair, the slight pull sending sparks all the way down to your toes. You can’t help but gasp and whine, a little, as Noctis continues to kiss you like a man starved. 

He pulls away, finally, after who knows how long, licking his full lips, hand still intertwined in your hair, stormy blue eyes wide with arousal, cheeks red and flushed, chest heaving with labored breaths. 

“Shit,” he says, looking at you in wonder. 

You can’t help but cry as you look at your best friend, the _prince_ , the boy who’s just kissed you senseless in the middle of the soccer field at school. “Noctis...” 

“I’m in love with you,” he says. “Fuck, I... will you date me? Please.” 

Your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You nod, numbly, still feeling like you’re floating outside of your body, not quite believing what you’re seeing and hearing. 

“Cool,” says Noctis. “Um. Kiss me again? Please.” 

A hoarse laugh makes its way from deep within your belly, and your whole body rumbles with it. “Well,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ears. “This is a kissing booth, isn’t it?” 

Noctis just grins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following this dumb idea! It was fun to write. Please please kudo and comment if you liked it! Your feedback is my motivation! :)


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